


Disposition

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-23 01:04:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20883632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis was a jerk; Regis doesn’t approve.





	Disposition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MistressOfLions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressOfLions/gifts).

> A/N: Fill for MistressofLion’s “an a/b/o ignoct with some type of hurt/comfort with an alpha!Noct and omega!Ignis and since I love how you write Regis maybe Noct does something unintentionally and it hurts Ignis in some way and Regis has to step in; but a fluffy ending I would still like for there to be.” request on [my dreamwidth](https://yeaka.dreamwidth.org/1190.html).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

His email’s frozen. Of all things, his _email_. He could’ve checked that on his phone. He could’ve done half his work from home, but Ignis says he’ll get more done in a professional setting, and he should be seen more around the Citadel. But Noctis hates the Citadel, hates work, and hates controlling omegas that tell him what to do. 

He huffs out a thick breath, closes his eyes, and tries to reel it back in. He knows his tempter’s spiraling out of control again—he can feel the heat rising under his skin. His fists tighten against the armrest. His rut’s only a week away, and it’s already affecting him. He shouldn’t let it make him mad. He shouldn’t have yelled at Ignis. He still feels guilty for that. But he’s more annoyed than anything, and just barely stops himself from slapping the monitor as though that will help.

The large, chunky black phone rings from the corner of his desk. Noctis glares at it for a few seconds before picking up the receiver.

_“Noct,”_ his father’s voice greets before he can get out a word. _“Come down to my office immediately.”_

Noctis’ nose wrinkles with his scowl. He wants to bark _no_, but his father’s already hung up. Even more irritated, he slams the phone down. Normally, he would just make Ignis go and see what it is. But Ignis left after Noctis screamed his head off, so Noctis has to do his own errands. 

He marches down the towering halls with his features set in a dead stare—it works: no one stops him. He doesn’t need any more interruptions. He doesn’t even want to say hi to familiar faces. He just wants to get his work done, go home, and play video games into the small hours of the night.

He reaches his father’s office and doesn’t even bother knocking. He storms right in, then halts halfway to the desk.

Ignis is seated over by the windowsill, bundled up in a thick blanket with a steaming mug cupped in his hands. Noctis’ heart constricts. Ignis doesn’t even look over, though he must sense that his alpha’s in the room. His eyes are downcast behind his thin glasses.

Regis clears his throat and gestures to the chair set before his desk. Noctis begrudgingly takes it, though his eyes stay on Ignis.

Regis bluntly scolds him, “You can’t yell at omegas, Noct. _Especially_ your own.”

Noctis winces. His attention finally snaps to his father. A part of him sinks at Regis’ icy stare, but the rut-affected part swells up again: how _dare_ another alpha challenge him. Ignis is _his_, and he knows how to handle their relationship; he knows what Ignis can take. Ignis isn’t some delicate flower that needs to be coddled. Regis should trust that Noctis knows what he’s doing and leave it to him to do it. He doesn’t like being questioned. He opens his mouth, but Regis rumbles right over him, “I don’t care what excuse you have; that behaviour is completely unacceptable. I had three different noise complaints from that wing, all unwilling to name the culprit, but we both know Ignis would never raise his voice to you. I can’t imagine why you believe it’s acceptable for you to do so to him.”

Noctis’ face burns with embarrassment. He feels both chastised and furious. If it were anyone else, anyone but his father, wafting the dominance of a _king_, Noctis would be on his feet and snarling. Regis’ cold glare pins him in place. Regis continues, only a tiny fraction softer, “I understand you’re young, and ruts are difficult. You’re clearly heading into one. But if you’re ever going to run this country, you need to learn to manage your emotions. And to stop being a brat.”

“I’m not—”

“Starting with your own omega,” Regis continues right over him. “If you can’t take care of one man, a man you claim to love, how can we trust you can take care of an entire nation?”

Noctis never wanted to do anything of the sort. His fingers dig into his palms, but he reigns himself in, solely because Ignis is in the room and he won’t go full on alpha around Ignis again. Purely for Ignis’ sake, Noctis grinds out, “I understand.”

Regis’ serious expression denotes that he doesn’t quite believe it. Noctis doesn’t care. He asks, even though it galls him to ask permission for his own lover, “Can I take him back now?” 

Regis asks, “Will you treat him well?”

Noctis bristles. His teeth grit together. He mutters, “Of course.”

Regis frowns. But he does turn towards the window and ask, “Do you want to leave with Noctis? You’re free to stay here as long as you like.”

Ignis keeps his gaze lowered, but Noctis knows that’s more from respect than submission. Ignis politely answers, “Thank you, Your Majesty. You have been most kind. ...But I would go with him, if I may.”

Regis sighs, but nods. Noctis pushes immediately out of his chair. Ignis stands up slower. He drinks the last of his cup, then leaves it on the window, and he folds the blanket up there. Noctis walks out on his own, but Ignis lingers to give his king a deep bow. Noctis’ skin prickles right up until the moment they’re outside in the hallway and he can touch Ignis again. 

He slams his father’s door shut, then pulls Ignis into a tight embrace, fiercely holding him in. Ignis lets out a breath of surprise but tentatively holds him back. 

Noctis mumbles into Ignis’ shoulder, “’M sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Ignis answers. “Please, don’t be upset. I believe your father was over reacting, but it was my fault in the first place. He shouldn’t have found me sulking in the halls.”

“I shouldn’t have made you like that. I’m sorry.” He can admit it now that he’s out of earshot of his father. He _does_ want to treat Ignis well. He insists, “I love you.”

“I know,” Ignis answers, chuckling lightly. “I feel very lucky. And I assure you, your interest is mutual.”

After a deep inhale of Ignis’ cologne, Noctis releases his grip. They lean back but don’t step apart. Noctis isn’t fully appeased, and he does admit, “Actually, I’m kind of annoyed to find _my omega_ all snuggled up in his offce.”

A small grin breaches Ignis’ handsome face. “I’d be happy to snuggle up in your office if you actually work there.”

Noctis groans but agrees, “Fine.”

Ignis’ smile grows. He pecks Noctis’ lips, is pulled in for a deeper kiss, and then the two of them walk back up together.


End file.
